


picturesque

by ZombieBabs



Series: Possession [2]
Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black Tapes Holiday Gift Exchange, Established Relationship, F/M, Families of Choice, Found Family To The Extreme, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28678440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieBabs/pseuds/ZombieBabs
Summary: The cabin looks like something out of a Christmas card. Or a Lifetime movie. Freshly fallen snow covers the gentle slope of the roof, as pillowy and soft as a down comforter. Piles of pure, crystalline white sparkle from the boughs of the surrounding trees. The air itself, completely, magically still, seems to shimmer. Like the whole place is under some kind of Disney-esque fairy tale spell.“Wow,” Alex says, squinting against the glare of glittering sunlight. “I would have killed for snow like this when I was a kid.”Set two years after the events of Unique In Its Madness.
Relationships: Alex Reagan/Richard Strand
Series: Possession [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101944
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	picturesque

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holiday Gift Exchange to sugaplumvisions on tumblr! I hope you like it!

The cabin looks like something out of a Christmas card. Or a Lifetime movie. Freshly fallen snow covers the gentle slope of the roof, as pillowy and soft as a down comforter. Piles of pure, crystalline white sparkle from the boughs of the surrounding trees. The air itself, completely, magically still, seems to shimmer. Like the whole place is under some kind of Disney-esque fairy tale spell.

“Wow,” Alex says, squinting against the glare of glittering sunlight. “I would have killed for snow like this when I was a kid.”

Strand ducks out of the car. He looks at the cabin with a shadow of a smile. “It is quite picturesque.”

The back door of the rented sedan pops open. Simon spills out of the car one gangly limb at a time. He looks at the cabin and then at Alex and Strand, expression neutral. “It’s nice.”

Strand’s smile curls a little higher. “It’s nice, he says.”

Simon’s expression doesn’t change, but Alex knows if he were any other kid, he’d be rolling his eyes hard. Instead, he reaches into the car, retrieves his Nintendo Switch from the leather seat, and buries his face in whatever game that’s caught his interest this week.

Alex shares a fond kids-these-days look with Strand over the roof of the car before turning back to the younger man beside her. “Simon? Why don’t you help Richard with the luggage?” 

Without looking up from his game, Simon follows Strand to the trunk of the car.

Alex crunches her way up the snow-covered drive. With the toe of her boot, she sweeps some of the snow off the steps to the wrap-around porch and clears a path to the door. 

She pulls at the screened door and winces at the squeal of the hinges. She slides the metal doo-dad to lock the screened door in place and digs the key to the cabin out of her jacket pocket with wool-numb gloved fingers.

Strand and Simon trudge up the drive, laden with suitcases and reusable shopping bags.

“It looks like we’re moving in,” Alex says.

“Aren’t we?” Simon asks. His brows furrow, just the slightest, in his confusion.

“Yes,” Strand says, humor glinting in his crystalline blue eyes. “For the week, in any case.”

Alex sighs with great, long-suffering affection. “I guess when you put it like that.” 

She jiggles the key in the lock and pushes the door open. “Home, sweet home!”

Simon and Strand wrestle the bags into the cabin. Alex attempts to lighten Simon’s load, but he only stares at her in that unnerving way of his. Or, at least, it would be unnerving if Alex wasn’t so used to it. 

“At least let me help with the groceries,” she tries, following the younger man into the kitchenette. 

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

Alex shakes her head. “You’re honestly worse than Strand.”

Simon doesn’t answer, but Alex doesn’t really expect him to. Strand doesn’t respond, either, but Alex can almost feel the smug satisfaction radiating from him as he retreats down a short hall to put away their luggage.

Next to the cozy kitchenette, where Simon is already emptying the grocery bags, is a little dining area with a small wooden table and four matching chairs. Alex brushes her fingers over the red and green plaid tablecloth as she moves into the living area. A large sofa and an overstuffed armchair sit facing a wood burning fireplace. Between the fireplace and the sofa is a low coffee table. Above the mantle is a flatscreen television, mounted to the wall. Sitting on the mantle, surrounded by kitschy Christmas decor and garland, is a DVD player, but no cable box.

“Should have packed some movies,” Alex says, already envisioning herself cocooned in a warm blanket with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, the fire roaring.

“We should be able to sign into Netflix,” Strand says, coming to stand beside her. “The wifi password is on the refrigerator.”

“Ah, so we aren’t totally disconnected from civilization, then.”

Strand raises a brow.

Alex smiles and leans into him. “I promise only to use my internet-ing powers for good?”

Strand laughs and puts his arm around her waist. He kisses the top of her head. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Alex says. “For getting all of this set up. For—for everything, really.”

Strand shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. It’s because of you that we’re here, not me.”

“Don’t start that again. Please, Richard? I’m talking about everything since then. These past two years—everything, everything you’ve done for Simon, for me. You’ve been wonderful. I honestly...I can’t think of a time when I’ve ever been happier.” 

Strand pulls her closer. Alex knows that if she looks up, his pale cheeks will be tinged with a pale pink. “I—” 

Behind them, the sofa groans as Simon settles into the cushions. Alex recognizes the Animal Cruising game from the cheerful music coming from his Switch. “It’s snowing.”

Alex pulls away from Strand long enough to glance out the window. Where it is very clearly not snowing.

“On my island,” Simon continues.

“I see,” Strand says, even though his face is painted with anything but understanding. “That’s...good?”

“It’s good. Everyone is wearing hats.”

Alex grins. “And what kind of hat are you wearing, Simon?”

“An eggshell.”

Alex laughs. “That sounds wonderful.”

Strand just shakes his head. 

Alex and Strand leave Simon to play his game, opting to explore some of the walking trails around the cabin. They come upon a small fishing pond, frozen over with a thin layer of ice. 

“It’s beautiful,” Alex says, her breath coming out in little puffs of white.

Their hands are entwined between them. Strand pulls at Alex until she’s wrapped in the circle of his arms. “You’re beautiful.”

His gloved hand pushes an errant lock of hair out of her eyes. Strand leans in and presses his lips to hers in a slow, lingering kiss.

Alex pulls away with a sly smile. “Don’t tell me you brought me all the way out here to ravish me in the snow?”

Strand laughs. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Something crosses his expression, a familiar spark of anxiety and flash of concern that Alex really thought they had gotten past by now. “Unless…?”

“No,” Alex says. “No, I promise, I’m good with not getting frostbite in interesting places.”

She smiles and tugs at the short hairs at the base of his skull, the way she knows he likes. “Although...I wouldn’t mind taking a break to make out with you a little more. Since, you know, I’m supposed to be resting and all.”

With a lopsided smile, Strand dips his head and slots his lips over hers. He breathes in, cupping her face with warm, leather-bound hands, his thumbs sweeping across the swell of her cheeks. His tongue teases at the seam of her lips. Alex moans and pulls him closer, tilting her head to give him better access.

When they finally part, Strand rests his forehead against hers. “There is, ah, something I wanted to ask you.”

Alex raises her brows even though it’s unlikely Strand can see it. “Hm?”

When Strand doesn’t continue, Alex prompts, “Richard?”

Strand sighs. “Later.”

Alex frowns. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes. It can wait.”

Alex pulls away, but she catches his hand and swings it between them. “If you’re sure. You know you can ask me anything.”

The corner of Strand’s mouth tugs upward. “I know.”

“Good.” With a smile, Alex nods her head in the direction of the cabin. “Do you wanna head back?”

Strand squeezes her hand. “Lead the way.”

By the time they make it back to the cabin, the sky is painted a brilliant orange as the sun dips toward the horizon. 

Simon looks at them over the back of the sofa as they kick off their shoes and remove their coats. “You’re back.”

“We are,” Alex says. “I see you got the fire going.”

Simon doesn’t look back at the fire roaring in the fireplace. “Can we make dinner soon?”

Strand takes Alex’s coat and hangs it beside his own on the peg next to Simon’s. “Would you like to help?”

“Yes, please.”

“Wash your hands and we’ll get started.”

Alex knows from experience better than to get in the way of her boys when they’re in the kitchen. “I’m going to take a shower, I think.”

“Take your time,” Strand says, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt so that he can push the sleeves up his arms.

Alex takes a moment to admire the sight of his bare forearms before heading into the bedroom for a change of clothes and her shower things.

By the time Alex emerges, showered, changed, and with her hair blow-dried, the cabin smells divine. “Wow, you guys have outdone yourselves, haven’t you?”

Simon places a fork on the table next to a large, ceramic dinner plate. “It’s almost ready.”

“I can’t wait.”

Simon pulls one of the chairs away from the table. “Sit, Alex. Rest.”

Alex shakes her head, even as she smiles. She sits in the chair while Simon resumes setting the table. In the kitchen, Strand pulls the cork out of a bottle of wine.

“Glasses, please, Simon,” Strand says.

Simon pads into the kitchen on socked feet. He opens a cabinet and reaches for the crystal wine glasses on the top shelf. He holds one up to Strand and, answering Simon’s silent question, Strand points at the bowl of the glass to show him how much wine to pour.

They’re good together. Simon and Strand. They understand one another. And not just because they were both once possessed by demons and made to hurt people against their will. It’s something they share, yes, but it’s more than that. 

“Alex?” Simon’s soft voice pulls her out of her thoughts. He stands close, holding the bottle of wine for her to inspect, a slight frown on his face.

Alex holds a hand over her glass. After the pleasant day they’ve had, combined with the coziness of the cabin after her shower, wine will put her right to sleep. “Not just now, Simon, thanks.”

He doesn’t smile, but something in Simon’s expression looks pleased. 

Simon pours a full glass for Strand and a third of a glass for himself. He’s been 21 for half a year, but chooses to drink sparingly, if he drinks, at all. Alex doesn’t blame him. After what he’s gone through, giving up any measure of control must still be terrifying.

Simon places the bottle into a bucket of ice and pads back into the kitchen to help Strand. Together, they return to the table with steaming plates of chicken marsala.

“Oh, wow,” Alex says.

For the first few minutes, they eat in relative silence. Eventually, however, Alex notices that Simon isn’t eating, but instead looking between her and Strand.

“Simon?” Alex asks. “Everything okay?”

If anything, Simon frowns even deeper. “With the baby coming, are you and Dr. Strand going to get married?”

Alex freezes.

Strand chokes around a mouthful of wine, but forces himself to swallow. He coughs, his face turning a worrying shade of red before he finally is able to suck in enough air to breathe. 

Alex frowns, but tries to keep her voice even. “A ba—Simon, honey, what are you talking about?”

Simon’s brows scrunch. “I thought—I overheard you and Dr. Strand. I didn’t mean to, but I heard—You were telling Dr. Strand it wouldn’t be like before. Like with Charlie.”

Alex and Strand exchange a look, realization dawning on both of their faces. 

“I’m not pregnant, Simon.”

Simon shakes his head. “But Dr. Strand said you needed to rest.”

“While we are on vacation,” Strand says, still looking extremely uncomfortable. “Alex has a tendency to overwork herself.”

Alex nods. “He didn’t want me checking emails when we were supposed to be spending time together.”

“Oh,” Simon says, a deep scarlet spreading over his pale face. “I see.”

Alex gives Strand a meaningful look.

“Simon,” Strand says. “The conversation you overheard. You recently turned 21 and this may not be necessary. Or, quite frankly, wanted—”

Beneath the table, Alex gives his shin a not-so-gentle nudge with her foot.

Strand closes his mouth. His brows narrow for a moment before he tries again. “Alex and I reached out to one of Nic’s contacts. She can make you a new identity. One that would allow you to move around more freely. To go to school, perhaps, if that’s what you wanted. Or to pursue other employment, if you no longer wished to work with me at the Institute. And—” 

Taking pity on him, Alex takes Strand’s hand. “How would you feel about being Simon Reese-Strand?”

Simon’s growing distress grinds to a halt. He blinks several times, mousy hair falling into his face. “You—you want to adopt me?”

“Only if you want to be adopted. We can choose another name, if that’s what you want. And that’s completely okay! You’ll still be part of the family, no matter what.”

Simon looks at the table for a long time. Wordlessly, he stands.

Alex watches the disappointment flicker over Strand’s expression only to be replaced by surprise when Simon wraps his long arms around Strand’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Simon says, so low as to be barely audible.

Strand squeezes Simon’s arm with a small, wondering smile. “You’re welcome. Now, finish your dinner before it gets cold.”

Simon nods and shuffles back to his seat. He rubs at watery eyes before looking up with a huge, beautific grin.

After dinner, Alex insists on doing the dishes and Simon, no longer believing her to be pregnant—thank god—sheepishly shuffles his feet and asks if he can dry the dishes and put them away for her. 

“Do you think I should be worried about Richard?” Alex asks, handing him a plate.

“Are you not always worried about Dr. Strand?”

Alex smiles. “In a way, I guess. The same way I worry about you.”

She bumps his shoulder and Simon sways, hands gripping the sides of the plate. “I’m a worrier, what can I say?”

Simon puts the plate into the cabinet and returns just in time to receive a handful of miscellaneous cutlery.

“I mean,” Alex continues, “he’s obviously over the moon about the Reese-Strand thing. Which, oh my god, Simon, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you two!”

Pink stains Simon's cheeks even as a small smile tugs at his lips. “But?”

Alex shakes her head and pulls the plug, draining the last of the soapy dishwater. “No ‘but.’ More like there’s maybe something else going on?”

Simon shuffles from foot to foot, thinking hard. “Such as?”

“I don’t know.” Alex leans her back against the counter and worries at her bottom lip. “I’m sure he’s fine. I’m probably just overthinking things. Worrying too much, again.”

“Would you like me to speak to him?”

Alex smiles. Simon is such a good kid. A little unsettling, sometimes, but good. “No, no. But thank you for offering.”

Pushing herself away from the counter with a muted grin, Alex says, “Why don’t we put something on Netflix and you can show me your island?”

As they settle on the sofa, Simon beside her and Jim Carrey as Dr. Suess’s The Grinch grouching on the television, Alex tries not to look at the closed door of the bedroom. She tries to keep her eyes on Simon’s Switch and listen when he introduces her to each of the animals living on his island. 

(They are, indeed, wearing hats. Simon’s eggshell cap is adorable.)

It’s when Simon has finished giving her the virtual tour of his virtual island and settles into the corner of the sofa, deeply absorbed in his game, that Alex can’t ignore the little pit of worry digging into the lining of her stomach. She unwraps herself from her blanket cocoon and stands, crossing in front of television to go to the bedroom.

She knocks on the door, feeling a little silly for doing so, and waits for Strand’s heavy footsteps to pause in front of it. Slowly, the door swings open.

“Alex?”

“Hey. Can we, uh, talk?”

Worry flashes through Strand’s eyes, but he nods and moves aside, closing the door behind her.

Alex perches on the end of the bed. She pats the comforter beside her and waits for Strand to sit. “So, um. About earlier. At dinner? What Simon said, I—I hope it didn’t scare you.”

Strand doesn’t pretend not to know what Alex means. He ducks his head while his long, graceful fingers toy with the hem of his sweater.

“Because, it’s fine. Totally fine! With how everything went down with Coralee, I’m sure the last thing you’d ever want is to get married again. I’m perfectly happy just being an us. You, me, Simon—we’re a team and—” 

The rest of Alex’s speech takes a back seat to the sudden warm press of Strand’s lips on hers.

She blinks, kiss-drunk, when he pulls away some minutes later. She comes back to herself pretty immediately, however, when he slips off of the bed and goes down onto one knee. “Richard?”

“Alex Reagan, if I am frightened of anything it is spending the rest of my life without you by my side.” His hand delves into the pocket of his sweater, pulling out a small, navy blue velvet box. He opens it, showing her the simple white-gold band set with a sparkling princess-cut emerald resting inside. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh my god.”

Strand smiles, still holding up the ring. He must have spoken to Amalia or called her mother because the ring is perfect.

“I love you,” she says, unable to keep the grin off her face. “Yes, yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

She waits, hands trembling, for Strand to slip the ring onto her finger. Then, she launches herself at him, trusting him to catch her, for his strong arms to hold them both upright while she kisses him, slow and deep. 

“Is that what you wanted to ask me earlier? On our hike?”

Strand smiles his lopsided smile. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

Alex kisses him again and doesn’t pull away until they are both breathless. Alex leans back and cards her hands through his hair, grinning in satisfaction at its disarray. 

A thought comes to her, as sudden and disruptive as a bolt of lightning. Alex frowns, hesitating.

“Alex?”

“If it wasn’t marriage that scared you into hiding, was it...the other thing?”

Strand’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t look anymore frightened than when Alex brought up the subject of marriage. “No. No, I was, ah, rehearsing.”

Alex blinks. “Rehearsing?”

Strand gives a breathy laugh. “I meant to ask you a hundred times before, but I could never quite get it right. When Simon mentioned it at dinner and you didn’t seem to be completely adverse to the idea, I knew it had to be soon.”

“And here I interrupted you.”

“For which I can only thank you.”

Alex laughs. “You’re very welcome.”

Strand tucks a stray lock of hair behind Alex’s ear. “As for children? Alex, I—”

“Richard, it’s okay. Really.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but when Alex gets to her feet and offers him her hand, he takes it.

“Let’s go tell Simon the good news.”

The credits are rolling on the television when she and Strand step into the darkened living area. While they were gone, Simon moved the coffee table and converted the sofa into the pull-out bed. He’s lounging on top of the thin mattress, nose pressed almost to the screen of his game, when Strand clears his throat.

To his credit, Simon doesn’t look the least bit startled. Slowly, he turns his head to look at Alex and Strand. “Hello.”

Alex smiles. “Hi, Simon.”

She holds up her hand, the emerald winking in the light of the fire. “You were right. Now that there’s going to be a new addition to the family, we’re getting married.”

Simon sits up, pressing a button to pause his game. “Congratulations, Alex. Dr. Strand.”

Alex grins.

Strand nods. “Thank you, Simon.”

“Are you going to sleep?” Alex asks, indicating the pulled-out bed and mussed blanket wrapped around Simon’s waist. “I thought we could make some cocoa and actually watch a movie.”

Simon shakes his head. “We can watch a movie.”

“Find something good for us?”

“Ok.”

Strand offers to help with the cocoa, but Alex shoos him out of the kitchenette. She may not be the world’s greatest cook, but she knows enough to heat milk in a saucepan, distribute evenly into mugs, and stir in the pre-packaged cocoa powder.

When she returns, laden with matching ceramic mugs, Alex smiles. “Lilo & Stitch?”

Simon nods as he takes one of the mugs from her and gives the cocoa a careful sip. His eyes close briefly in pleasure and his lips twitch upwards in a small Simon-like smile.

Strand takes both of her remaining mugs while Alex gets herself settled in his lap on the recliner. “Simon insisted.”

Alex hums around a sip of hot cocoa. If she closes her eyes she can still see that night, two years ago, when they first watched Lilo & Stitch. When they first began to feel like family.

And, like that night, a handful of lines still strike a chord that resonates deep in her heart.

This is my family.

It’s little and broken, but still good.

“Yeah,” Alex says in time with the film. “Still good.”

“Still good,” Simon agrees with a shy smile.

Strand winds his arms around Alex’s middle and buries his face in the space between her neck and shoulder. His voice is raw, almost hoarse, full of what Alex can only describe as wonder. “Family.”

“Our family,” Alex says. She tangles her hand in his hair and settles into his chest to watch the remainder of the movie.

Afterward, with Simon snoring gently and the fire extinguished, Alex leads Strand into the bedroom.

“On the subject of names,” Alex says, laying against the headboard, urging Strand to cover her body with his own. “How would you feel about being Dr. Richard Reagan?”

To his credit, Strand doesn’t balk. He kisses his way up her pajama-clad body. “And Simon?”

Alex arches her back, toes curling with pleasure. “Simon Reese-Reagan has a certain ring to it, you gotta admit.”

Strand ducks his head, pressing a kiss to Alex’s collarbone through the cotton of her shirt, before collapsing on the bed beside Alex. 

Alex pulls the comforter up to their chins and wraps herself around Strand. He’s no longer as touch-starved as he once was, but it’s obvious he still craves touch. He’s getting better about initiating it, though, and Alex counts that as a win.

“Think about it,” Alex says around a yawn. “Hey, I want to check out that other trail tomorrow. Do you think Simon will want to come?”

Strand presses a sleepy kiss to the top of her head. “He might be persuaded.”

“Good,” Alex says. Or, slurs, rather, already half-asleep.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Strand.”

“Goodnight, Dr. Reagan.”

Strand’s breathy laughter tickles Alex’s scalp. 

Alex tucks herself closer to him and, with a happy sigh, closes her eyes and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Outside, the snow sparkles in the light of the moon, winking like the sea of stars glittering in the heavens above.


End file.
